Bags And Hats And Lies
by SchreiItOutLaut
Summary: -Tom Kaulitz One Shot- She was at the airport waiting for her bag; when she got it she found that it was a bag full of hats. Now who has a bag for only hats? -Bitte Read und Review.-


**Bags And Hats And Lies**

People kept looking my way; giving me strange looks. Well, I am currently tapping my right foot impatiently against the tile floor, with my arms crossed across my chest. I don't know about other people; but hell, I don't like having to wait for one stupid roller bag to come on the rolling table—or whatever the hell it is called. Especially after having a long flight from England to Canada. It was only supposed to take seven hours; but no, it took eleven freaking hours. All because of the weather.

I've been living in England for nearly six years; I was eleven when my mother and I decided to move to England. This obviously makes me seventeen; which isn't my favourite age. I'm old enough to be responsible for my own chores and homework; but I'm not old enough to do some things that I want. Which sucks.

After waiting for God knows how long I spotted my bag heading my way in a very slow speed, oh fuck it, I side stepped around a few people and grabbed my bag off the rolling belt. I pulled out the handle from the top and rolled it behind me; now all I need is to get my phonebook and call my aunt. I walked over to a quieter part of the airport and found and empty black seat amongst others. I sat down and pushed the handle back down before unzipping the zipper of the bag--

WHAT THE GIDDY FUCK?

I looked in _my_ bag and groaned this isn't my bag; since when do **I** have a bag _full_ of bloody caps? I looked at the name tag on the bag and blinked several times. This bag that I had mistaken for mine belongs to the Tom Kaulitz. Since when does that happen? Shit, he probably has my bag and shit! I've got a whole binder full of computer print outs of Tokio Hotel.

Then it dawned on me; I've **got** Tom's bag. His special bag of caps. Wow.

I looked through his bag and was surprised to find his phone vibrating in my hand; who leaves their phone in a bag that they don't have with them on the plane? Who could be calling?

I clicked the answer call button and placed the phone against my ear; before I could say anything all I heard was yells in German. I waited for the person to finish talking—yeah more so yelling before stating, "Ich verstehe nicht." Which clearly means: I don't understand.

"Sorry," The person replied in a heavy German accent.

And I've got to say the German accent is way lovelier than the British accent.

"Yeah, who is this?" I asked slowly.

"Tom."

I nearly dropped the phone I was holding shock. SHIT! And I mean it in a good way.

"Um. Hallo?" Tom questioned, "Your name?"

"Darla." I replied quickly. Where the fuck did that come from? My name isn't even Darla.

"Darla, you have ist my phone."

"I know, but I didn't steal it!" I stated quickly.

"What?"

"I didn't steal it," I restated slower.

"Oh, you have mein-me bag."

"With hats in it," I added, "Yeah."

He sighed loudly in relief.

"Danke GOTT!"

I laughed.

"Where are you?" Tom asked.

"In the airport."

"Still, good! Where in the airpot?" Tom asked, "I mean airport."

I held in a laugh and stated, "Um. In a quiet part of the airport where there are black seats and stuff."

"Black seats, okay. I will try to find. Bye."

"Bye."

I pushed end call and put his phone in my pocket; my gosh, what am I going to say to him? Talking on the phone is way different than speaking face to face. Oh well, at least I get to meet him. I zipped the bag up and leaned against the back of the seat. I might as well get comfortable; it might take an awhile for him to find me. I closed my eyes and propped my feet on the roller bag that way the bag won't be stolen away from me; I could happen. The world is full of stealers.

A few minutes l later I heard and felt someone sit beside me; I opened my eyes to find Bill standing in front of me along with Gustav and Georg. I turned to my right and Tom smirked at me saying, "Feet off my bag."

I laughed sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Darla why do you have Tom's bag?" Bill asked.

"I thought it was mine, and I didn't check the name tag," I replied quickly.

When I'm nervous I start talking quickly; well, it's better than not talking at all.

"What?" Bill stated, "Slow English."

"Sorry. I thought it was mine," I repeated slower, "I didn't check the name tag."

Bill laughed, "The same for Tom."

"Ja. He take bag without check name and he open bag saying," Georg added.

"I said what the fuck, I don't have make -up and pictures of self in bag."

"And us too," Bill pointed out with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, that bag is mine," I stated.

"Nein! It is not!" Tom exclaimed.

"You name is Darla name of bag is something different." Bill pointed out.

I laughed scratching the back of my neck, "Yeah, I didn't-- tell Tom --my real name."

"Why?" Tom demanded.

I blinked several times in silence; Tom sounded like he got betrayed or something.

Bill gave Tom a look and stated, "First, what is name on bag?"

"Cheyenne Smith," I replied.

"Ja Tom, das ist her bag," Bill stated.

Tom sighed and pushed my bag to me and I stated, "What's wrong with you?"

Tom shook his head and grabbed his bag from under my feet; my feet crashed to the floor and he stood up saying, "Thanks for not running away mit mein bag."

I nodded and watched as Tom strolled away, Bill sent me a smile and walked after his brother chattering off in German and shaking his head. Georg rolled his eyes and followed the brothers. Um. Does Tom hate me? Because that is the feeling I get.

"Don't care Tom, he just --how I say, not happy that nother girl lie to him," Gustav stated softly, "He had bad thing with girl."

I nodded; I didn't mean to lie, it just came out.

Gustav gave me a little wave and followed the others.

I sighed and watched as they disappeared around the corner with their bodyguards. After they left I bent over and unzipped my bag to see if everything I had in there before was still there. I picked up my binder and opened it up and almost screamed with glee. They, meaning Tokio Hotel, signed and wrote little messages in horrible English on my pages. There were also a lot of German comments—now I _will _learn German.

I closed my binder and placed it carefully back into my bag and almost jumped out of my seat when my pants started vibrating. I stuck my hand in my pocket and brought out **Tom's** phone. Opps. Now he really is going to hate me.

I gulped and answered the phone with a quiet, "Hello?"

"STEALER! You have mein phone!" Tom yelled, "Give it back!"

"I didn't steal it," I stated louder, "I put it in my pocket so it wouldn't get stolen, and your rudeness forgot me to give it back to you."

Tom waited a minute or two before stating, "I'm not rude."

"Come and get your phone. I clearly don't want it."

Tom hissed and I heard someone yell at Tom in German, I waited a few seconds and someone else came on the line, "Bill?"

"Ja. It's Bill. Tom is being like child, and we ist in our van, so might take some time to come back."

I sighed, "You have to hurry, because my bus leaves in fifteen minutes."

Bill stated, "Scheiße."

"I'm guessing that means shit in German?" I guessed.

Bill laughed, "Yes. We will try, okay, see you later um—I call you Shy, okay?"

I laughed, "Alright Bill."

"Bye, Shy."

I laughed and clicked end on the phone. I stood up pocketed the phone and pulled up the handle to my roller bag. I'm going to go wait for them at the front; it's easier for all of us then. I started walking and rolled the bag behind me. A few minutes later I exited the airport and walked to where there was a white ledge around a grassy area. I walked down the three steps and pulled myself up onto the ledge, I pulled my bag up beside me and pushed down the handle.

To kill some time I started swinging my legs in front of me up and down and in circles; this is no fun. I started to hum the beat to the song _Durch Den Monsun_. If I knew how to sing I would sing; but I don't so I won't.

I don't know how much time passed; but I knew that I was royally screwed. The bus that I had to go on just left and is passing me by. I sighed. **Stupid Tom**.

"Why am I stupid?"

I yelped and jumped off the ledge and crashed into the person in front of me; almost immediately the person wrapped their arms around my middle to keep balance. I pulled away from the person and started mumbling, "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

The person chuckled and I look up to find a handsome dreadlocked man standing in front of me with his lower lip pierced—yes, it's Tom. Insert _Crazy In Love Fan Girl _**SCREAM**_ Here._

"Tom, what you did?" Bill stated, bringing me out of my thoughts, "She looks like red clown face."

I gave Bill a glare and he stuck his tongue out at me.

I snapped my fingers of my right hand and stated, "Oh yeah, before I forget again," I handed Tom his phone.

"Danke."

I nodded and sighed, "Well, have fun with whatever you are doing here."

Might I add that I am speaking slow English to these German Gods; yes, I'm a fangirl for sure.

"Danke Shy!" Bill stated happily.

I then sighed, now I'm stuck at an airport in Toronto; how lovely.

"What ist wrong?" Tom stated, I'm guessing he heard my sigh.

I shook my head, "My bus just left before you came."

"Is das why you called me stupid?" Tom asked.

Did I say Stupid Tom out loud? Gosh I am stupid. I nodded.

"Sorry. I was rude before."

I blinked a few times in shock; who would have thought that Tom would apologize.

"It's okay. Ah, thanks for signing my binder," I stated, "I need to learn German to understand some comments."

Both Tom and Bill laughed at that.

"Shy, we drive you where you need, yes?"

I looked up at Bill, "Are you sure?"

Tom nodded, "Of course, more time to know a beautiful girl."

I stuck out my tongue in disgust, me beautiful—no thanks.

Tom grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the street; I gasped and stated, "Where are you taking me?"

"To the van, no bushes."

I felt myself heat up and nodded dumbly before yelling, "Bill! Me bag!"

Bill laughed and stated, "I got it, but Shy, your English needs help, it's my no me."

I laughed and bumped into Tom again; he suddenly stopped walking. Tom laughed, "Chyenne you most love me touch."

I could help but giggle; I do love to touch Tom the **most**.

As I entered the black van Bill stated, "Tom you got good girl."

My heart couldn't help but to tremor at that.

* * *

I'm a little stuck at typing LWTE.

Bitte Review.


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